The Soldiers of Night
by Donnamour1969
Summary: Twelfth in my post-Sonata series. When a dead body turns up wearing a ring like Mick's, Mick must relive his past and reveal his membership in The Soldiers of Night. No copyright infringement intended. Rated T/M, for possible course language or sex.
1. A Ray of Sunshine

A/N: I always thought that cancellation of the show prevented us from seeing an episode surrounding Mick's striking and ever-present ring. I hope my attempt at solving the mystery behind it is a plausible one. Once my vision took hold, I haven't been able to stop writing, so expect fast updates, at least initially. Oh, and I'm doing something different this time around. I'm actually putting titles on each chapter! It might make it easier to remember which chapter you're on (and me too, lol).

Thanks for reading and supporting another of my stories. I'm still having a lot of fun writing, and your reviews help to make that happen!

Chapter 1: A Ray of Sunshine

BETH

I really hated everything about the City Morgue—the sickening smells, the windowless creepiness of being in the basement, the idea that most of the people in it had died in horrible ways. But visiting there had been part of my job since I worked at BuzzWire, and now, in the DA's office, Assistant District Attorney Ben Talbot insisted I go with him if ever a case warranted it. He liked the hands-on approach to investigative law enforcement. On this particular occasion, we were there to check out the body of a John Doe, found stabbed in the heart not a block from where I lived. Ben thought I might be able to identify him, that maybe I'd seen him around my neighborhood. I half hoped I hadn't.

As luck would have it, Guillermo was working. It was always great to have his expertise, both in the human and vamp worlds, and I knew Mick trusted him implicitly. He was busy with an autopsy, and I looked away in disgust as he sensed our presence and drew up a blue sheet to cover his work.

"Drew the day shift, eh, Guillermo?" I asked him. It wasn't the favorite shift of a vampire. He turned to me with a smile.

"Oh, hey, Beth. Yeah, it sucks to be me these days."

All business, Ben nodded politely to Guillermo. Ever since the situation with the list of vampires late last year, Ben had kept his word to stay out of vampire business. He knew Guillermo was a vampire, but he didn't acknowledge it in any way, and he never spoke of Mick, unless I brought him up.

"We're here to see the John Doe brought in yesterday."

"Sure thing."

He pulled out one of the refrigerator drawers that housed the deceased, pulling back the familiar sheet. Guillermo began his official narrative.

"Victim looks to be in his late seventies. No forms of identification or distinguishing marks. Bled to death from the stab wound to the left side of the chest. It penetrated his heart. Looks like it was likely a sword of some kind."

He had been a distinguished looking gentleman, dressed in a brown tweed suit and muted paisley tie. Maybe a professor or teacher of some sort.

"You recognize him, Beth?" Ben asked me.

"No. I've never seen him before. Why would anyone want to kill someone's grandpa?" I was feeling a little sick.

"Robbery?" Ben suggested. He looked at the police report he'd brought. "No. Says here he had fifty dollars and some change in his pockets, a watch and other jewelry, still on him."

It was then I noticed the ring he wore, on his right index finger. It was a striking piece of what I knew was white gold, a filigreed cross in its center, with a round, iridescent moonstone gem beneath the cross. I would know that ring anywhere, because Mick St. John wore the exact same one on his exact same finger.

I looked up at Guillermo. "Interesting ring," I said, trying to sound casual, though I felt my heart pick up with dread.

He held my gaze meaningfully. He'd obviously noticed the similarities to Mick's ring, as well. "Yeah, isn't it? Quite a chunk of gold, there." I hoped Ben had never paid attention to Mick's ring.

Ben leaned in closer to examine the ring while I mouthed to Guillermo: "Vampire?"

He shook his head once. Guillermo would have been able to sense if a vampire had been involved in this killing. I was glad Ben wouldn't have to be a part of another vampire crime.

"Hmmm," said Ben noncommittally, looking up from the body. "Anything else you discovered in your examination?"

"Nope. But something might come up when you get the DNA results. He'll be on ice here as long as you need him."

"Thanks," Ben said simply. He looked at me. "You ready, Beth?"

"Yeah. Thanks, Guillermo." As Ben walked toward the exit, I purposefully left my purse on a nearby table. I indicated with a smile and nod that I'd be right back.

Halfway to the elevator, I stopped short. "Damn," I said to Ben. "I left my purse in the morgue. I'll get it and meet you back at the office."

Ben looked at me suspiciously, but didn't protest. I knew I'd face more questions from him later if I didn't watch it. Ben wasn't stupid, which was certainly why he'd made it so high up at such a young age. I watched the elevator door close between us.

Back in the morgue, Guillermo was waiting for me, the body of the unidentified victim still pulled out from cold storage.

"Have you called Mick about this?" I asked him without preamble.

"Not yet. Hey, it may be just a coincidence." He was trying to comfort me, but my curious nature wouldn't leave this alone until I ruled out Mick's involvement.

"What do you know about these rings? Mick ever tell you where he got his?" Guillermo was trying to fill in some blanks of his own.

"Not much," I told him. "I asked Mick in passing once what the ring meant to him. I think he said he got it in Europe somewhere. A momento. He wasn't too forthcoming. You know how he can be. "

Guillermo smiled. Yeah, he knew alright. Everyone who was friends with Mick St. John knew what a private person he was, slow to trust others, even other vampires he'd known for years. He and Guillermo had been through a lot together, so he was officially in Mick's loop, but that didn't mean Mick shared everything.

"Well, this guy wasn't a vampire, so hopefully that's not the connection. Kinda weird that a ring from Europe might end up on the finger of a dead man in the same city as Mick," I said. I took out my cell phone and snapped pictures of the ring and of the man's face.

Guillermo slipped the ring off the dead man's finger. "I'll send this over to Logan, have him research it. I don't think Talbot will miss it for a few hours. Meantime, you think you can use some of your feminine wiles to get Mick to tell you more about his ring?"

I grinned, assuming a terrible German accent: "I haf vays of making him talk."

"I'm sure you do, Beth," he said suggestively. I winked at him and told him to let us know what Logan found. Outside, in the bright sunlight, I gave Mick a call.

"Hey sweetheart," said my beloved, that deep, sexy voice still giving me chills.

"Hi. I need to talk to you about something. It has to do with a John Doe that was murdered last night. You busy?"

"Only if you call shooting the breeze with Josef being busy. I'm at his office. You wanna meet me here?"

"Sure. Josef might have some insight on this too. I'll be there as soon as I can. Love you."

"I love you too. See ya in a bit."

I looked little guiltily at the DA's office building across the street, knowing I was risking Ben's wrath. I went to the corner and crossed over to the parking lot, jumped into my car, and headed for Kostan Tower.

MICK

"Beth's on her way over," I said to Josef. " Something to do with a dead body."

"Always a ray of sunshine, your little human. But we still should have time to finish this discussion."

Josef set down another golf ball at one end of the putting green he had set up in his office. He claimed it helped him think; but that wasn't the topic in dispute today. I rolled my eyes from my place at the conference table.

"We've had this argument on and off more than twenty years. We're not going to change each other's minds. I'm telling you, everything was preplanned. He's the god of his universe, Josef. He decided long before he created it what was going to happen. The triumph of good over evil. The redemption of the lord of darkness. Your pessimism just ruins everything, takes away from your enjoyment of the whole thing."

Josef's putt sent the ball straight down the green and into the cup at the end. He smirked at his own greatness, then stopped the ball with his foot as it was automatically kicked back to him. He looked up at me, his passion for this topic animating his face.

"He might have planned things partly, at least in the beginning," Josef conceded, "but after _Empire Strikes Back, _it was like Lucas was making it up as he went. No way he knew during that movie that Luke and Leia were twins. Otherwise, he would have spared us that incestuous kiss just to make Han jealous. And don't get me started on the colossal mistake he tried to gloss over in _Revenge of the Sith, _about Luke and Leia's mother dying? Sheesh! After that disaster of a movie came out, it was all I could do not to put out a hit on George Lucas myself. He betrayed us, Mick. He betrayed us all!"

He putted again, but so worked up was he that the ball missed the cup entirely, rolling toward the office door.

"Dammit!" Josef exclaimed. I jumped up and retrieved the ball, then held out my hand for the putter he tossed me. I set up the ball and proceeded to hit it in the cup perfectly about ten times in a row, while the battle of wits continued between us. The buzz of Josef's intercom saved us from another hour of this pointless discussion.

"Mr. Kostan, Miss Turner is here."

"Send her in."

The minute my Beth entered, our eyes clashed, and I heard the pleasant sound of her heart skipping a beat. I would never grow tired of that, or how her cheeks flushed a little at our proximity. I handed the golf club back to Josef, and embraced Beth, kissing her lips softly in welcome. I hadn't seen her in a couple of days.

"Hi, Mick. Hi, Josef." But she was still looking at me when she greeted him. She shook herself a little after a moment, then walked further into the office.

"Hi, Beth. Maybe you can help us end this debate."

"Josef—" I warned; the last thing I wanted was to involve her in our trivial pursuits.

"Come on, Mick. Logan, for all his knowledge, was clearly on your side. Beth is a bright girl, she'll shed some brilliant light on this subject." Without waiting for my—or Beth's—agreement, he dove right in. "Tell me, Beth. What do you think about George Lucas's screw-up in _Revenge of the Sith?"_

I put a hand over my eyes, certain she was going to draw a complete blank, embarrassed that I had been caught in the midst of such a silly argument.

"Well…" she began tentatively. "If you're talking about the way he re-wrote history by killing Padme, I'm definitely on your side, Josef."

Josef laughed in triumph. "See?"

I groaned. "Okay, one vote for your side. Now, Beth, about this murder you mentioned?"

Beth and Josef were still smiling at each other, thrilled at their newfound alliance.

"Beth?"

"Oh," she laughed. "Sorry." She took out her cell phone and opened it to a picture. "You recognize this guy?"

I took the phone. "No. Should I?" I handed it to Josef, and he shook his head, returning her phone to her.

"Huh. Well, I was hoping you would, considering he was wearing this…" She pulled up another snapshot and I looked at it, then held up my right hand in comparison.

"That's my ring," I said in surprise. "This dead man was wearing a ring like mine?"

"Yes. Do you know how that could be?"

Josef had turned away to look out the window onto the late afternoon cityscape. Just like he'd predicted forty years ago, it had come back to bite me in the ass. Beth was waiting for my answer.

"No, I'm not sure why this guy was wearing the same ring. Here, let me have another look at him." I touched a button on the phone to bring up his face again. I looked at it more closely, trying to imagine what he might have looked like forty years before. He might have been in his thirties then. Yeah, that would be about right. His hair was gray and thinning on top now, and I couldn't see his eyes, but it could have been him. I gave Beth her cell phone.

"I'm not sure, but this could be the man who gave me my ring, back in 1968. And the police have no idea of his identity?"

"No," Beth said, trying to put the pieces of a puzzle together without a big picture to look at. "He's a total blank at this point."

"Well, if I'm right, his name is Royce Hampton. And he was a vampire hunter."

"How do you know that?" asked Beth, incredulous.

"Because I used to be one too."

A/N: So, how do you like this set up? I hope to take this story to places you don't expect, so the next chapter begins with a flashback. I already am a couple chapters ahead (for once), so that should tell you how excited I am about it. I hope you enjoy it and tell me what you think!


	2. London Revisited

A/N: I'm glad I caught your interest with Chapter 1! Thanks for the nice reviews. Here is the next chapter, which moves quickly into flashback land. I hope you enjoy it!

Chapter 2: London, Revisited

Beth looked at me in shock, and I didn't blame her. She knew I'd been a vampire since 1952, so I'm sure she wondered how I had become a vampire hunter more than a decade after I'd been turned. Josef turned around, and took a seat behind his desk. There would be no help from that quarter. He'd warned me, once upon a time, that hunting and killing your own kind would not sit well with even the most conservative of the vampire community, including him.

I sighed, running my hand through my hair, wondering where to begin. I nodded toward the conference table and we both took a seat. I was anxious about telling her this story, because it involved Coraline and some things in my life I wish I could forget. There was no easier way than starting at the beginning.

"Things were becoming unbearable between Coraline and me in LA back in the sixties. I'd caught her cheating on me with her freshies, but she excused it by saying I wasn't paying enough attention to her…_needs_. Truth was, I hated what I'd become, and being around her just reminded me of it more and more. Her wild parties, her addiction to freshies—I was tired of it all. Coraline suggested a change of scenery, so we went to Europe for a few years to get away, hoping it would lessen our problems if she was back in her old stomping grounds. At that point, I was willing to try anything. But it didn't help. It just made things worse. I was a naïve idiot, still in love with her despite her selfishness, her spoiled behavior. We were living in London, and Josef had moved in with us for moral support…"

_London, 1968_

The pub had been raucous with drunks and students getting stoned in the dark corners. Josef and I drank a few pints but it really wasn't our scene. The sixties wasn't my favorite decade, and I was seriously thinking of going back to the States, changing my identity, and reenlisting in the Army. But as much as I wanted to fight for my country, it would have been impossible to fight in Vietnam as a vampire. I mean, how would I ever justify being unable to fight during the day or desiring only blood in my sea rations? Not to mention the freezer situation. It was damned depressing that I was basically hiding out in Europe so no one would question me about how I'd avoided the draft.

Josef hadn't found any desirable freshie prospects that evening, none whose blood wasn't filled with alcohol or chemicals, so it was only one a.m. when we both decided to call it quits and slink home for the night.

"You know, Mick," Josef was saying, "I miss good old American women. They're eager to please and just as eager to hop in the sack. I really have to work hard for these London girls. And all this rain, it's really damned depressing." We pulled up our collars against the light mist that was falling. It made it more comfortable to get around during the day, but we both were missing LA's perennial sunshine. We were an odd pair of vampires. We totally stank at being expatriates, because we actually wanted to be home.

"Thanks for moving in with us for awhile. Coraline and I need some sort of buffer to stop us from killing each other. It's nice to be able to talk to someone without yelling."

"Haven't you made any other vamp friends here?"

"Nah. Met some of Coraline's friends, but they're very upper crust and extremely British. I'm just not in to playing cricket or polo, or sipping afternoon tea, even if it's liberally laced with blood. I'm bored as hell here."

Josef laughed, lighting up a cigarette. We'd both taken up smoking to pass the time. He handed me the last one in the pack, and I cupped the match as I lit it. About this time, our ears and noses picked up a nearby vampire. We walked along more cautiously, because it sounded like the vamp was engaged in some sort of fight. We stopped short at the entrance of a narrow alley. A human was fighting this vampire, and he had stakes and a machete on him, so he obviously knew what he was up against.

"We should help," I murmured. "That vamp is gonna kill him."

Josef shrugged. "None of our business, Mick. This isn't our town, or even our country. We have no rights here. Let's just move on and avoid any hassles. Besides, it's not like the guy is unarmed."

I didn't like it, but he had a point. We began to walk on past, when suddenly the vampire gained the upper hand and knocked the man's weapons away. The vamp threw him against a brick wall, going in for the kill. My old protective instincts kicked in, and didn't even stop to think about it.

"Mick!" Josef called, as I lunged toward the other vampire. We struggled a minute and I got him away from the man. Next thing I knew, I'd broken the vamp's neck and I was kneeling by the man to offer my help. He had a pretty good lump on the back of his head, but he was alert and allowed me to get him to his feet.

"Thank you," said the Brit, who seemed to be in his thirties. He was well dressed and very much the English gentleman. I wondered how such a man would get involved in fighting off vampires.

"Look, I think you might have a concussion. Better go easy the next few days. Maybe get someone to wake you up during the night." That was my medic training speaking.

"You're a vampire, aren't you?" He asked, looking up into the fading silver of my eyes. I guess there was no point in denying it.

"Yeah. But I'm not like that guy," I said, indicating the mangled vamp at my feet. "I don't hunt humans."

"Mick," Josef was urging, not liking the situation one bit. "Let's get out of here. The guy might have friends nearby…"

"Sorry. We'd better go."

"Wait. Let me at least buy you a drink for your pains. I was all but done for when you arrived."

I shook my head. "No thanks. Go home and take care of that head."

"You interested in a job?" The man asked softly when I'd nearly caught up with Josef. I turned around.

"What kind of job?"

"Helping me track down more of these…creatures. Your sensory abilities and obvious physical strength would be a great asset. And I could pay you quite well, actually."

"Well, I happen to be one of those _creatures,_ as you saw. I don't generally make a habit of killing my own kind."

"I only kill those vampires who attack humans. I hunt them, you see."

"I don't know…" I hesitated, but the idea actually intrigued me. I was at loose ends in London, and it might feel good to be involved in something meaningful.

"Well, I wish you'd consider it. If you want the job I'll be back here tomorrow night, around midnight. I hope to see you again, Mick, was it?"

"Yeah. I'll think about it."

I rejoined Josef, who was obviously agitated at the conversation he'd just witnessed.

"This is bad news, Mick. I seriously hope you're not considering becoming a goddamn vampire hunter. It's_… unnatural." _He flicked his cigarette butt into a puddle. I'd lost mine sometime during my fight with the vamp, and I wished I had another right then.

I chuckled. "Maybe. A little. But I know you don't like vamps who go out and haphazardly kill humans. You said yourself such behavior draws too much attention to our community, makes it unsafe for the rest of us to stay in one place. I'd be doing the law-abiding vamps around here a favor."

"I don't think most of them would see it that way. Most would see it as the ultimate betrayal. If word got out, you'd be a marked man."

I shrugged. "It's just a thought," I said, wanting to get off the topic with him so I could have the chance to think about all the ramifications myself.

We reached our three bedroom flat on Chapel Street, and Coraline was there lounging among her friends and a handful of freshies, both men and women. Cigarette smoke and the dulcet tones of a Beatles record filled the air. Coraline seemed like she was in a good mood for a change, since she was the center of attention, just like she liked it.

"Back so soon, boys?" she asked from her position on the divan.

Josef grinned and made his way toward a cute little freshie in a miniskirt. He had a thing for legs. Well, and necks too. "The pub was a bore. Glad to see you have drinks here at home."

Coraline nodded. "Be my guest." He led the young woman back to his room.

Coraline patted the cushion beside her and I reluctantly sat down. She held out the arm of the boy she'd been feeding off of—he looked about eighteen—politely offering me a taste. I shook my head and watched as she continued, getting turned on despite myself. Coraline really was charismatic and sexy, and while I wasn't quite sure it was love I felt for her anymore, she still had sexual power over me. Killing that vamp earlier had gotten my motor running, and I leaned in and began nuzzling Coraline's neck while she suckled the forearm of her young freshie.

"Send them a way," I whispered into her ear.

She licked the boy's wound and turned her full attention on me. A few words from her, and everyone was gone in about two minutes flat. I threw Coraline on the floor and proceeded to tear away her red wraparound dress, taking her over and over on the white shag carpet, while the Beatles' guitars gently wept.

I didn't tell Josef or Coraline where I was going the next night, but Josef knew, and shook his head in disapproval as I left the flat, a wooden stake concealed in each pocket and my machete hanging in its scabbard beneath my leather jacket. True to his word, the man awaited me in the same alley where we'd met. I purposefully hung back to watch him a minute as he scanned his surroundings, seeming to strain his senses to reach into the darkness. Then, with a burst of vamp speed, I was suddenly standing beside him. He jumped away, startled.

"If _I _were hunting _you_, you'd be a dead man," I said softly, noting his accelerated heartbeat.

"Yes. Quite. Mick, glad you came, albeit nearly frightening me to death. You have much you could teach me."

"Maybe. I thought about your offer, but I have a few questions first."

"Please, ask me anything."

I sighed. "Well, to begin with, what's your name?"

He smiled. "Terribly sorry. Royce Hampton." We shook hands. "And what's your surname, Mick? I would hazard a guess that you are American."

"St. John. Yes, I'm from California."

"Awww…St. John. A prophet who lost his head. Ironic name for a vampire."

"Well, I'm no saint, but retaining my head is a personal goal of mine. And fighting murderers would go a long way toward easing my guilt for things I did in the past."

"I thought it might. You've managed to retain a great deal of honor from your previous life. From my experience, that is a rarity among your kind."

I shook my head. "Not really. There are good and bad vampires, just as there are humans. I try to avoid the bad and stay with the good, although sometimes one bleeds into the other, if you'll pardon the pun."

"I see your point. You said you had more questions…"

"Yes. Why are you hunting vampires? What are you getting out of this? Do you work for someone else?"

He paused, and I heard his heart skip a beat at my questions. Whatever he was about to say, this quest of his had deep meaning for him.

"A vampire killed my pregnant wife, right before my eyes. There was nothing I could do to stop it."

"I figured it was something like that," I said grimly.

"I made it my mission to discover the habits of the vampire, how to fight them, how to kill them. The first few I killed, it was purely out of vengeance. Now, it is for justice. I work for no one. I teach at university during the day. But I have several who work for me now, most of them purely voluntary. We call ourselves the Soldiers of Night."

The irony of the name didn't escape me. I couldn't be a soldier during the day anymore, but this was a way I could fight with a different kind of army, against an enemy just as real as the Vietcong. I could make a difference. I could help people.

Hampton held up his right hand, and it was then I first saw the ring that would eventually have its place on my own finger. And so began my six-month association with the Soldiers. I kept my secret from Coraline, saying only that I had found a night job. She didn't complain because the money was good, and I came home every morning with a smile on my face and then usually went on to put a smile on hers as well. She was free of my judgmental presence to have her little parties, and I was free of attending them. We had the afternoons together and we were getting along well, for us. That is, until I killed one of her friends.

"Mick, Morty Solomon was killed last night."

"Who?"

She thought a minute. "Maybe you've never met him…anyway, his wife Ginger was with him when a gang attacked them, beheading poor Morty right in front of her. She swears one of the gang members was a vampire."

Hmmm…well, "gang" was a bit of an exaggeration. It had been Royce, another Soldier named Steven, and I. I remember the woman vamp had gotten away, and I would have run after her, but this Morty guy had been a handful. We'd found the couple outside a pub, feeding on a drunk young girl til she was nearly drained. Royce had taken her to a hospital, but she'd died of massive blood loss. I had plans to track the female that night.

While I thought about the night's events, I realized too late that Coraline was pretty good at reading my expressions. When I met her eyes, hers were narrowed with suspicion.

"You know anything about this, Mick?"

I schooled my features, trying for a blank slate. "No. Sorry you lost a friend." She considered a different approach.

"What do you do at night? What's this job you're so passionate about?"

I'd been prepared for this question for months.

"I'm a night watchman, for a hotel."

"Really? Which one?"

"The Savoy."

Royce had set things up for all of the Soldiers. He had a friend sympathetic to our cause in the hotel's employment office, and should anyone ever inquire, he would be able to produce work schedule cards, and job applications on file for all of us.

"Hmm…Why have I never seen your uniform?"

"I'm allowed to wear my everyday clothes. Are you accusing me of something?" My annoyed expression seemed to snap her out of her suspicions, at least for now.

"Of course not, Mick. Just curious."

That night, I knew Coraline was following me, so I went directly to the Savoy downtown, making a few turns around the grounds of the hotel for show, until I sensed she was no longer watching me. I stayed a little longer, the length of two cigarette smokes, before heading out to track Ginger. Knowing her name made things even simpler, and after asking around in the guise of Coraline's husband, I found her coming out of a high-rise apartment building not far from our flat. I paused when I saw Josef Kostan on her arm. He sensed me at once and helped Ginger into her car, then ambled casually over to me.

"Comforting the grieving widow?" I asked him.

He grinned. "What can I tell ya—it's a gift. Now, if you'll let me, I'll pick out the next married woman I'd like you and your gang to widow for me." So he knew. I shouldn't be surprised. Josef seemed to know everything, no matter where he lived. He must have met Ginger at one of Coraline's parties.

"You know she's the next on the list, now," I said, all traces of humor gone.

"Not while I'm around," he stated matter-of-factly. "Come on, Mick. From what I hear, that girl's death was an accident. Monty's paid for it. Let this one pass."

I looked past his shoulder to where the red-head, Ginger awaited him in the car. "I don't know if I can do that," I said evenly. "She saw me last night."

"Then we have a problem." His voice had grown cold, with a sharp edge I'd never heard directed at me. We stood there in silence, the machete heavy against my back.

"Go then," I finally said. "But it's on your head if she kills again."

"Okay. But I've got a question for you, Mick. What if I'm the one who kills? Does that move me to the top of your list?"

I didn't have an answer for him. I could only stand there and watch as he walked away and got into his car with Morty Solomon's widow.

A/N: Thanks for reading—please review if you have a minute! Chapter 3 will be up soon.


	3. Some Things Never Change

A/N: I know this story has a different tone than you're used to, but, if you're still reading, you must be willing to give it a chance…hope I don't disappoint. So, here's just one more chapter of flashback, then on to the mystery at hand. Josef starts us off…

Chapter 3: Some Things Never Change

JOSEF

_London, 1968_

As I got into the Astin Martin with Ginger, I wished like hell I could drive all the way back to LA. I was sick of the London scene, had only come as a favor to Mick. Now, he'd put me in a difficult position with that new night job of his, plus, I wasn't seeing him much anyway. My sabbatical was long past over, and I was anxious to get back home to business. In the meantime, I'd try to make Ginger feel better in her hour of need_. Better make that two hours_, I thought, when I got a look at her mile-long legs encased in white go-go boots.

"So, where to, baby?" I asked, as we pulled away from her apartment building.

"I don't care. I just couldn't bear to stay in that flat one more minute. I keep seeing Morty everywhere, then I can't stop reliving the moment when those bastards killed him. I appreciate you taking me away from it all, if only for a little while."

In truth, I knew Mick and his Soldiers of Night were gunning for her. From her hysterical phone call the night before, I deduced that she and Morty had both been totally wasted, and hadn't been able to stop drinking from the girl they'd picked up for a threesome. It was unfortunate, but it happened. Had they not been discovered, I'm sure they would have done the responsible thing and called the local Cleaners. But it was moot now. I was going to try to persuade Ginger to leave the country tonight. I'd already booked her on a flight to Rome in a few hours.

We passed a pub that Ginger liked and she urged me to stop.

"I could use a stiff drink," she explained.

"I would think you'd be through with drinking for awhile, after last night."

I groaned inwardly when she began to cry. "Shh…shh…sorry, baby. I wasn't thinking. Sure, we'll get us a drink, then I can tell you my plans for the evening." I pulled off the road and parked in front of the Knight's Tavern. The second I turned off the key, she threw her arms around me, and I spent a good ten minutes kissing her tears away.

Once she'd gotten herself together, wiped her eyes and re-powdered her nose, I got out and went around the car to help her out so we could go in for that drink. As soon as she stood up, a silver stake zoomed past me and slammed into her chest. She fell in a heap on the sidewalk. Someone had likely fired it from a crossbow. I was about to pick her up, just as another projectile embedded itself into the side of my car, an inch from my head. I dove inside and slammed the door, ducking and sliding across to the driver's seat.

"Son of a bitch!" Stakes began flying into my car from all sides. I turned the key, put it in gear, and stepped on the gas, pulling into traffic as a flash of silver penetrated my windshield and went into the seat beside me. Thankfully, the glass didn't shatter, but it left a small hole as a reminder that that could have been my chest.

I was able to speed away, sorry I had to leave Ginger like that, but it would have done neither of us any good if I'd been shot too_. Dammit._ I was fairly sure Mick wasn't the one responsible for this attack. I had no doubt it was those Soldiers of his, who must have either followed us or found out Ginger's likely hangouts. I had to get the hell out of London. I had that ticket to Rome, but my passport was back at Mick's. I doubled back to Mick's place, going on the gut feeling that he wouldn't have betrayed me in that way, and that the Soldiers hadn't identified me as Mick's house guest.

At the flat, I let myself in with my key. I was relieved to see that Mick was there, so I was right that he hadn't been one of the Soldiers firing on me. He was on the phone, and his eyes widened as I entered.

"Yeah, okay. Glad you got her. Sorry I wasn't there to help. Yeah. See you tomorrow night." He hung up and regarded me.

"They said they shot up the car of the guy who was with Ginger. You okay?"

I was so pissed off that I felt like laying into him, but unfortunately, I didn't have the time to waste. I brushed past him to my room, took out my suitcase, and began throwing my belongings inside.

"Josef?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, no thanks to your trigger happy friends back there. And you owe me a car. It has so many holes now, I could strain pasta with it."

"I'm sorry. I don't know why they went after you. You haven't killed anyone lately, have you?"

I stopped my packing long enough to give him the angriest look I could muster. "Not yet."

"Josef, I had nothing to do with this. I let you go, and then I came home." He saw me put my passport into my breast pocket. "You going back to LA?"

"Yeah, by way of Rome. Can't very well stay around here. No self-respecting vamp is safe in London anymore. Guess Ginger found that out the hard way."

When he didn't comment, I pretty well guessed they'd killed her. Too bad. She was a nice chick, with incredible legs.

"I hate that you're leaving. Maybe I could explain things to Royce, get them off your back."

"Don't do me any favors, Mick. This is what happens when you become a vigilante. Vampire Councils have taken care of their own for centuries; you need to find justice through proper channels. And killing vamps isn't going to make you stop being what you are, Mick. You could kill a million of us and you'd still be a vampire. Just like me. Just like Coraline. Stop running away from who you are, and you'll be much happier, believe me."

I closed up my suitcase and carried it out into the foyer. About this time, Coraline came home. She looked at us both, assessing the situation.

"Lover's quarrel?" she asked snarkily. I ignored her remark, as I often did.

"Well, sweetheart, I guess I've worn out my welcome. Thanks for the hospitality." I kissed her on the cheek and gave Mick a salute.

"Wait, Josef," Mick said as I opened the door. He followed me outside, looking for all the world like a lost puppy. "Hey, man, are we cool?"

"The closer I get to LA, the cooler we'll be. Come home when you get tired of chasing your tail. Oh, and if you're in the market for a shot up Astin Martin, I'll leave the keys in it at the airport. See ya around, Mick."

I was going to miss Mick, but he was digging his own grave doing what he was doing, and I really didn't want to stick around to see him fall into it.

MICK

_London, 1968_

"What was that all about?" Coraline asked me after Josef left. Even with Coraline there, I suddenly felt incredibly alone.

"You know Josef. He has a limited attention span. He suddenly wants to go home, so he's going home."

I looked down at my ring, which Royce had finally trusted enough to bestow upon me. My involvement with the Soldiers had almost gotten my best friend killed, and I was beginning to question the wisdom of what I was doing. Josef was right—there were Vampire Councils out there, and Cleaners, a great system that had kept vamps in line for centuries. As a result, most vampires tried their best to live beneath the radar. Not all of us were bad. Mistakes like the one tonight with Josef could happen any time, if we allowed ourselves to become overzealous. I wondered what Royce would do if I suggested we have a trial or hearing before we executed any more vamps, sort of a vampire star chamber.

The phone rang, and Coraline moved to answer it. She immediately became very agitated.

"What? No! Oh, my God! Yeah, okay. Thanks. Thanks for calling."

I was pretty sure what that was about. She turned to me then, her eyes welling with tears. "They killed Ginger, Mick. I can't believe it. She was such a great person…would do anything for you." Seconds later, I could literally see the abrupt change of her emotions, the silver cast to her eyes.

"Let's go out," she said to me, her voice low, dangerous.

"Where?" I said, suddenly wary of her tone. And I knew that look she got sometimes—pure, unadulterated rage.

"We're going to track down this gang and tear the throats out of each and every one of them."

"Slow down, Coraline. They'll be ready for such an attack. Look what they did to Morty and Ginger?"

I turned away so she couldn't see my valiant attempt to hide my lying. I was usually able to get away with lying by omission with her, but never when she was looking directly at me and I had to come up with something on the fly. She reached out and grabbed my arm, hard, swinging me around to face her. The stakes I'd forgotten in my jacket pockets fell out onto the floor at her feet. She looked down at them, then up into my face. Her eyes narrowed.

"What the hell is this?" she asked through clenched teeth.

I'm sure I looked like a gasping fish, as my mouth began working without sound. "Protection," I finally blurted. "In case someone attacks me like they did the Solomon's."

"Take off your jacket, Mick."

"What? Why?"

"It looks like you have another weapon under your jacket. Prove to me you had nothing to do with their deaths."

I was well and truly caught, but I wasn't about to give her the satisfaction. I must have hesitated too long, for next thing I knew, she'd ripped the leather jacket off my back and thrown it on the carpet. The scabbard containing my machete hung between my shoulder blades.

"These…these weapons are for killing vampires, Mick. That night job of yours—you're out killing your own kind, aren't you?"

I swallowed. "Yes."

I blocked the hand that came up to strike me, her fingernails like red talons preparing to dig into my flesh. I grabbed the other hand before it could connect with my face, and I shoved her back against the wall. Pictures rattled at the impact. We both vamped out fully and I could feel the anger rolling off her as I secured her wrists with my hands.

"You've been lying to me. All these months, out killing my friends and bringing home your blood money, like you were proud of it. Do you hate me that much?"

At her words, it was like the anger suddenly drained out of me. I dropped my head forward in defeat, my face reverting to its human form.

"This isn't about you anymore. It's myself I hate. Killing off the bad vamps made me feel a little better about who I am. I'm sorry your friends were killed, but they were caught killing someone else. They had to be stopped."

"Oh, Mick," she whispered, leaning forward to kiss my cheek. "You've got to stop expecting the world to be different. You can't change the way things are. Accept it, and just let things happen…"

Her words made me feel hopeless, useless, empty of all that I used to be. And even though I knew she was a master of manipulation, I let her do it every time.

She kissed my lips, her fangs still extended, her tongue sneaking out to tangle with mine. She turned me on like a switch and I was kissing her back in a desperate frenzy. I took her against the wall like the animal I was, trying to fill that empty space by burying myself inside her. But as always, Coraline fulfilled me physically, but she couldn't even touch me emotionally anymore, except if the emotion was anger.

Toward dawn, after she got into her freezer, I packed my own bags and called a cab. I left her a note, propped on the living room table:

_Coraline,_

_I'm going back to LA. You were right—some things never change. _

_Mick_

I wrote another letter to Royce Hampton, and dropped it in the mailbox care of Oxford. I simply stated my resignation, citing personal reasons, but thanking him for the opportunity.

I knew there had to be a way for me to make a difference, even as a monster. I thought fleetingly about becoming a doctor, but that would be a constant torment being around blood all the time. No, it had to be something I could do alone, at night, that wouldn't conflict with either vampire or human law. Whatever it was, I wasn't going to find it with Coraline trying to pull my strings, and I had never been happy in Europe. Los Angeles was my home, and LA also meant Josef.

_Los Angeles, 2009_

"So, that was the end of my short-lived career as a vampire hunter," I finished with a sigh of relief. Beth and Josef had been silent throughout, but I could tell that my story had awakened his own remembrance of that strange time in London. I hadn't told Beth everything, of course. The intimate details with Coraline were still painful for me, even now. I was ashamed of my physical dependency upon her, like a drug, like blood.

"You broke all ties with the Soldiers?" Beth asked, still holding my hand like she had through my entire narrative. I squeezed it gently, grateful for the comfort it provided, grateful for her, that she was nothing like Coraline.

"Yes. I never heard from any of them again, or even what became of the group. I wished them well, but it was too confusing for me, trying to work both sides of the fence. At least with humans, their enemy was clear."

"And so you became a private investigator," she surmised with a smile.

"Eventually, after trying different things. Even after a brief stint working at Kostan Industries."

Josef laughed out loud at that particular memory. But that was a story for another time. Beth looked curious, but for once, she let it pass. Her thumb suddenly brushed over the ring on my right hand.

"You still wear this. Why?"

I looked down at the piece of jewelry that had become such a part of me that I felt naked without it on.

"It still stands for what I believe. Fighting for what's right. Making a difference." I smiled self-consciously, a little embarrassed at how cheesy that sounded. "To borrow a slogan, I'm an army of one now, still a Soldier of Night, but with my own rules."

She drew my hand to her mouth and kissed it, looking up into my eyes with understanding and love.

Josef cleared his throat, breaking the mood.

"As thrilling as this stroll down memory lane was, seems to me we still have the little matter of a body…"

I looked at Josef. "You think this is just a coincidence that Royce was found dead here in LA?"

"I don't believe in coincidences, Mick."

"Especially since he was found less than a block from my house," inserted Beth. "My guess is he was looking for you."

I suddenly didn't believe in coincidences either.

A/N: How do you like this now? Let me know what you think .


	4. Mystery Men

A/N: Thanks for those reviews. Keep them coming! I've posted four chapters within about a week, so if you are behind, make sure you've read the other three before this one. I'll give you a minute to do that…Okay! You ready for Chapter 4? Well, read on…

Chapter 4: Mystery Men

BETH

While I was sitting with the guys, trying to process all that had happened and all that Mick had told us, Ben Talbot called. _Oops._ I actually cringed before answering when I saw the caller ID.

"Hey, what happened to you earlier? I didn't see you come back in to work," Ben said, with only a hint of annoyance

"Sorry, Boss. I was feeling a little queasy after our morgue visit. I should have called…"

"You don't have to go with me anymore if it's a problem for you…"

"No," I back peddled, not wanting to be left out of the loop. "I should know better than to view a dead body on a full stomach. I won't forget next time."

Mick raised an eyebrow at me in amusement. He knew I could watch horror movies while eating blood pudding and not get sick. I mean, if I liked that sort of thing.

"Uh-huh. Well, anyway, a witness came forward this afternoon."

"Really? Who?"

"A man driving home last night saw a woman acting strange around a garbage can on the curb where the body was found. He said she seemed to be dragging something. When his headlights hit her, she stopped what she was doing and ran off. He didn't see what she was dragging, and he forgot all about it until the morning paper announced the murder."

"What did the woman look like?"

"Caucasian. Long dark hair, dark clothing. That's all he could remember."

"Not much help there. Except now we know it might be a woman. Anything you want me to do on it now? I'm feeling much better."

I could almost hear him smirking over the line. "No. Take the rest of the day off. I'll let you know if anything else comes up."

"Thanks. See you tomorrow."

I hung up.

"Sorry to get you in trouble with Talbot," Mick said. "Would you like me to bite him for you?"

There was definitely no love lost between the two of them, but there was tentative respect. Ben knew Mick and Josef's secret, and hadn't used the information or tried to blackmail them with it. I guess that said something.

"Or I'm sure I could find a new position for him somewhere else. Say, face down in La Brea?" Josef suggested dryly.

I laughed. "No, thanks—both of you. This was my fault. I came rushing over here when I saw that ring. Oh, by the way, Guillermo sent Hampton's ring over to Logan to get some info on it, in case you weren't forthcoming about yours."

At Mick's offended expression, I rushed to comfort him. "What? You know how you are. I've asked you about your ring before and you put me off. We were just hedging our bets…" Okay, maybe _comfort _wasn't the right word, given his continued sour expression.

"Glad to see you're using my friends behind my back to check up on me." I knew he was only pretending to be hurt. I leaned over and kissed his lips softly, saying with a smile:

"Lose the Mystery Man persona, and I won't have to do that."

"Hey, why don't you two find a freezer or something? Some of us have work to do, you know," Josef said mockingly.

"Yeah, solving the secrets of the _Star Wars_ universe is probably a real money-maker," I shot back, as Mick helped me out of my chair.

We were saved from one of Josef's snappy comebacks by the ringing of his phone. He tapped his Bluetooth and waved goodbye while launching into an immediate tirade to whom I gathered was his accountant.

"You have time to go to Logan's with me?" Mick asked, as we entered the elevator.

It became a little difficult to talk as he backed me into a corner of the small space, sexy hazel eyes boring into mine. It had been two days since I 'd seen him, and that had been only briefly, then about a week longer since we'd made love. Work had kept us apart, and our unexpected reunion was making my vampire a little randy. His mouth swooped down to make a slow migration from the crook of my neck up to my ear. He latched onto the lobe and I shivered, laughing breathlessly.

"You don't have to seduce me to get me to Logan's," I managed. "Although, it does make the prospect more tolerable." Seeing the slothful vampire in his native element was a little depressing.

He chuckled softly, sending more chills down my spine as my arms wrapped around his waist beneath his jacket, and I turned my head for his kiss. When I was suitably dizzy, he whispered, "Is that a yes?" For an instant, I forgot the question; I would have said yes to anything at that moment.

"Yes," I breathed, then kissed him again, just before the doors slid open on the first floor. He pulled away from me with vampire speed and I swayed a little as passengers brushed past me to get on the elevator. Mick put a steadying hand on my waist and guided me through the lobby.

"I'll make you pay for that one," I said under my breath. I knew he heard me because he smiled slightly as he reached in his pocket for his Ray-Bans, small protection against the afternoon sunlight.

"Your car or mine?" he asked.

"Yours. I'm in no condition to drive."

He just laughed and took my hand so I could keep up with his swift pace across the parking lot.

MICK

Logan buzzed us into his basement apartment. It was a funny thing about vampires; we are very protective of our lairs. Most of my vamp friends have surveillance cameras, and other high-tech security in place. Alarms signal us personally however, never the police. So it's funny how Logan, without an enemy in the world, who seldom leaves the warehouse basement he calls home, has a security system on par with mine. He does have a lot of fancy computer equipment and video games, but I suspect when he sleeps he sleeps heavily , so the alarm is more of an alert that he has company. Not that he has many visitors, either.

This afternoon when we entered, Logan was busy researching my ring, or, more precisely, Royce Hampton's ring. He'd scanned the image into his computer and through some program of his which I would never understand, he made it appear three-dimensional, floating in space on the screen of one of his four computers.

"Hey, Logan," I said good-naturedly, "what have you come up with?"

This was a test, of course, since I knew full well what the ring meant and who had one—at least as of 1968.

"Hi, Mick. Beth." If vamps could blush, Logan would be beet red at the sight of Beth. Social awkwardness was one of Logan's few charms.

"How are you Logan?" Beth asked politely.

He met her eyes for a fleeting moment, then turned back to the safety of his computer screen. "Fine, thanks. Uh, Mick, this is a very interesting piece of jewelry Guillermo sent over. It looked vaguely familiar to me, so, I plugged it into some law enforcement, CIA, and Interpol files and found out rings like it have been linked to five unsolved murders over the last ten years."

I didn't even ask how he'd hacked into the CIA and Interpol. "Really? You have names?"' He clicked on a saved link and scrolled down.

"Yeah, a few. Steven Hatch, back in 1998. Martin Chestnut, in 2000. Roderick Pierce in '05. And two others, unidentified in '07 and '08."

I'd known Steven, but not the other guys. They must have come on after I left England. "Where were they found?"

"That's the interesting thing. All over the US and Canada-namely, New York, Miami, Houston, Seattle, and New Brunswick. I guess we can add LA to that list. All are victims of stab wounds, all, of course wearing the same ring. Authorities think they were involved in some gang, and since those they identified were British citizens, they've been concentrating their investigations in and around London."

"Any leads?" Beth asked. She'd noticed I wasn't sharing anything with Logan about my past, and kindly followed suit.

"Nope. It's like these guys were ghosts. No family, unassuming jobs. No criminal records. That Hatch guy was in his sixties, though. Not your typical gang member."

"No," I said softly. Steven Hatch had been a good man, only in his twenties when I knew him. I was saddened that his involvement with the Soldiers had likely led to his death, though that was no surprise. I was actually more surprised he'd survived that long.

"Any information from your vamp sources?" I asked. He looked up at me in surprise.

"These vamp crimes?" he asked.

"I'm not sure. Maybe. Maybe just vamp-related."

"Guillermo hadn't mentioned vampire involvement, so I haven't checked yet. I'll put some feelers out."

Beth looked over at me expectantly, and I nodded to her in acknowledgement. "Try plugging in the Soldiers of Night. See what comes up."

"Is that the name of their gang?"

"Yeah." I sighed and stuck out my right hand. "I was once a card-carrying member."

"Hey! I thought that dead guy's ring looked familiar. Wait—you were in a gang?"

"We weren't exactly a gang. More like—vigilantes. Call me when you find out anything else, will ya?"

I slapped a few bills on the table beside him, and reached for Beth's hand.

"Good seeing you Logan," she said, smiling warmly. Logan seemed to melt into his chair.

"Yeah," he managed. "You too."

Back in my car, I headed for Beth's part of town. I wanted to see the murder site.

"I'm surprised you told Logan about your membership in the Soldiers of Night," Beth said softly. "This won't be good information for other vamps to know about you, will it?"

I gripped the steering wheel tightly. "No. Now you understand why I've kept it to myself all these years. But I knew Logan would figure it out eventually, and it's not like I've kept my ring a secret. But I trust his and Guillermo's discretion. They know that was in my past, and can see what I've done with my life since. But there are deaths now—human deaths. I decided if I confessed, Logan might be able to come up with something faster. Now, you know the address of the crime scene?"

She gave it to me and we drove for a while in silence. I pulled under a shade tree across from where Royce had been found. A lone police car was parked nearby, and police tape was stretched around some trashcans and tied off on the fence of a nondescript house. I was glad there were no signs of reporters around; it was already old news now. We got out of my Mercedes and Beth walked over to the police car, showing her DA's office credentials to the bored-looking officer. He nodded and allowed us to look around the site. I guess having her work there had some benefits that made up a little for who her boss was.

On the sidewalk near the trashcans, there was a pool of nearly dried blood. I took a big whiff, and it smelled vaguely familiar. If I hadn't known it belonged to Royce, I might not have been able to place it, it had been so long since I'd been around him. The only other scents I could detect were from humans, faint and unfamiliar, and maybe someone's dog, but definitely no vamps.

"Anything?" Beth asked.

"No, not really. But I was thinking—he might have gone by my place first sometime after I left there around two a.m. When he didn't find me there, he might have been heading for your condo. I was on a case so I haven't been home since then. Maybe my security cameras picked up something."

"Worth a try, I guess," she agreed. I was glad to get out of the sun and back into the car.

In the hallway leading to my apartment, I caught the scent of Royce again, easily discernible now that I'd just smelled his blood. There might have been another person here—a woman, perhaps? It had been awhile but since it was inside, scents could remain stagnate for much longer than they could outside.

"He was here," I told Beth. It occurred to me then that his murderer might have broken into my apartment. At my door, I took out my remote key and stopped. "Wait here," I commanded in a whisper.

"Okay. But you know I'll just come in if you take too long," was her soft, sarcastic reply.

I rolled my eyes and thumbed the remote. Inside, nothing seemed to be disturbed, and, listening, I heard no heartbeats and smelled no vampires. No strangers had been in here. I leaned back out the door and gestured that Beth come on in.

I pulled up the recordings of the last twelve hours of video captured by the monitor just inside the door. I forwarded through endless minutes of blank wall until suddenly the vision of Royce Hampton came into view. I paused the recording, looking at the face I hadn't seen alive in forty years. The years had not been kind, but then again, he was in his seventies. I resumed play, watched him knock, then call my name. Since he got no reply, after a few minutes he looked down in frustration, and walked out of camera range.

"So, was that definitely the man you knew as Royce Hampton?" Beth asked.

"Yeah, If I hadn't been sure before, I am now. Let me run the recording farther, see if anyone else stopped by."

We didn't have to wait long. Ten minutes later, a shadow appeared a little way down the hall. Someone dressed in black was skirting the wall, but once they realized there was a camera on, they scuttled quickly back toward the elevator. I paused on the most likely frame of the recording, and was just able to make out that the person was likely female by the body shape, and had dark hair.

"Looks like that's our murder suspect," Beth commented, glancing at my face. "Does her appearance ring any bells?"

"No. Not from the few seconds of dark blur that I saw. Dammit! I was hoping there'd be more."

She sighed and walked on into my living area, plopping down on my couch like she'd done a million times before. I joined her.

"Would you like a drink or something?" I asked belatedly. She snuggled into my side.

"No, thanks." She looked up at my face, no doubt noting how haggard I was looking. "Hey, aren't you overdue for some freezer time?" she asked with concern.

"Yeah, I suppose. I don't know how much sleep I'll get, given the time of day and the weirdness of all this Soldier stuff coming back to haunt me."

She raised up a little to kiss my cheek, likely scratchy and unattractive with stubble.

"Well, why don't you try anyway. Keep your phone nearby and I'll call if I hear anything new, as I'm sure Logan will do right when you get to sleep."

I laughed. "His timing isn't always the best, poor guy." She was right, though. If I didn't get a few hours of shuteye, I would be no use at all in solving Royce's murder. I rose to my feet, pulling her up with me.

"You're welcome to stick around here until I wake up," I offered suggestively, playing with the curls near her slim shoulder. If I weren't so tired, I'd suggest a different plan. As it was, being sleep deprived _and _overheated by Beth would probably do me in. I yawned in spite of myself.

Beth grinned. "Get to bed, already, before I have to drag you there. I'm going home to eat and catch up on my TiVo viewing. I'll see you tomorrow. "

I walked her to the door. "We just can't seem to get a break lately," I lamented.

"You'll make it up to me."

Despite my fatigue, I couldn't help pulling her close and heating things up between us, my tongue in her mouth and my hands beneath her blouse. Things began to get serious quickly, the days of deprivation getting the better of us. Fortunately, she was the strong one this time, pushing me gently away, despite her heavy breathing and flushed cheeks.

"You might want to take a cold shower before bed, big boy. I know _I _could use one," Beth said impishly, resolutely keeping me at arm's length. With a last smile, she shut the door between us. I couldn't help watching her on the monitor, shapely ass swaying as she walked. I groaned and headed upstairs for that shower she suggested.

A/N: More coming up soon. Please drop me a line and let me know what you think!


	5. Lessons Learned

A/N: I'm so enjoying the attempts by some of you to figure out the mystery. It's been fun, but YOU ARE ALL WRONG, lol. Keep trying! This chapter earns an "M" rating, so skip it if you are offended by hot vampire sexiness. Still here? Please read on.

Chapter 5: Lessons Learned

MICK

I was awakened at ten o'clock that night by a text from Logan: _Got some news. Call me._

Sitting up in my freezer, I sighed at the intrusion. I suppose it was just as well, considering my sleep schedule would be screwed up for a week anyway, since I had gone to sleep in the afternoon. At least Beth might still be up. That thought immediately cheered me and I jumped out of my bed and pulled out jeans and a Henley from my closet.

After downing a glass of O neg, I gave Logan a call.

"Hey. What did you find out?" I asked.

I heard him turn down either his stereo or Guitar Hero—it was hard to tell which.

"I checked out the vampire network and found out your Soldiers have been pretty busy in Europe over the years. They've taken out lots of vamps. Their activity has died down in the last ten years or so, and I'm guessing it's either because the Soldiers' numbers have diminished or maybe because vamps these days are toeing the line a little better. Who knows? Point is, there's not much on the Soldiers in the last ten years, except for those five deaths, and no account for who might be killing them lately."

"Huh," I said, allowing this information to sink in.

"You want me to dig a little deeper?" Logan prompted after I was quiet a minute.

"Yeah, but take a different tack. Try looking up recent female assassins, and cross referencing them with any vamp activity, see if that turns up anything. Let me know what you find out."

"Sure thing, Mick."

"Thanks, man. I owe you."

"Yes, you do." I laughed when he hung up. I'd definitely need more cash before I saw him next, the blood-sucker.

I went to leave when I noticed a note had been slipped under my door. I opened up the folded piece of paper and saw that it was from the apartment manager.

_This is to inform you that your mailbox is full. No additional mail will be posted until your box is cleaned out. _

_Thank you._

_Management_

Crap. I'd been so busy the last week I hadn't had the time to check my mail. In the lobby, I went to the bank of mail boxes and pulled out my key. The box certainly was crammed full. I threw away a couple of store circulars and junk mail, and what was left was mainly a small handful of bills. One envelope caught my attention, however. It was addressed to me in formal, almost calligraphy quality script. No return address. I opened the envelope and pulled out a crisp, vellum sheet.

Dear Mick,

I will continue under the assumption that you are the same Mick St. John I knew back in London. I know it has been some years since we have had contact, but I find it necessary to break that silence now and present you with a warning. You and I, my friend, are the last of our brotherhood. Many have died in the line of duty, but some have been murdered under mysterious circumstances. I send you this letter in the event that, should something happen to me, you will prepare yourself for the possibility that you may be next.

I am coming to the US in the hope that I might talk to you of these events in person. I plan to be in Los Angeles on the twelfth of this month. I will attempt to look you up upon my arrival, but should I not see you again, I beg that you take up the torch of our cause. A person such as yourself could organize others of your kind, convince them of the righteousness of our pursuits, and continue the good work we started long ago when we first met. Such an army would be unstoppable.

I hope to see you soon, if only to renew our acquaintance and see a face that, unlike mine, time has not touched. Till then, my friend, "think of the world."*

A brother in arms,

Royce Hampton

I reread the letter, noting, of course, that yesterday had been the twelfth. I don't know if having this letter sooner might have prevented his death, but I still cursed my lack of inefficiency in picking up my own damn mail. Maybe I could have been with Royce when he was attacked, could have helped him fight them off. What-if's wouldn't help him now. Revenge would, though. Or _justice, _as Royce would have called it. Either way, I owed it to him to find his killer, to his years of trying to do what he perceived to be the right thing. I owed it to all of the Soldiers of Night who had gone before. I looked at my ring, suddenly feeling its weight just as acutely as I had over forty years ago when I had first put it on.

At least for a while, I would have to be one of them again.

There was still a light on in Beth's bedroom window, and I noticed in annoyance that her balcony window was left open in the middle of the night. Didn't she know that it wouldn't take much for some maniac to climb up there and attack her? I decided to teach her a lesson, smirking evilly to myself as I imagined just how I might make her pay for her recklessness.

For a vampire, it was a simple jump straight up to the second floor—something else I'd warned her about before. The breeze gently stirred the curtains on the open door, and I stood in the shadows, listening for her. I realized she was in bed, and her deep breathing and steady heartbeat told me she was sleeping. I went inside slowly, vampire stealth completely stifling my footsteps. And there my princess lay, fully clothed, on top of the covers, work files spread on the bed around her, sheets of a police report resting on her stomach where she'd dropped them when she'd fallen asleep.

She was so cute as she snored slightly, mouth open, blonde curls in disarray on the pillow. Her sleepy smell was intoxicating as I leaned over her, removing her papers as soundlessly as I could, as if I were playing pick-up-sticks, or _Operation._ She didn't stir. I turned my attention to her blouse, a blue button front that she'd worn to work. I started from the top, carefully, cautiously unfastening each button, then drew her blouse open, revealing a black, push-up bra. I smiled at the sexy vixen she'd hidden beneath the conservative exterior. I removed my coat and set it on a chair, then surveyed the tempting feast spread before me. I knew just where to begin. I touched my tongue to the delicacy that was her right breast, circling her nipple through the satin of her bra. I moved to the other, giving it the same treatment, relishing the moan she released, still sleeping. I smiled against her cleavage, wondering how I might be wickedly invading her dreams.

My teeth latched onto the front closure of her bra and I freed her lovely breasts to my hungry gaze. I knew the instant she awakened, her heart lurching, then pounding heavily as she realized a very turned on vampire was suckling her very naked breasts. Her hands went to my hair, and she whispered my name in delight as I continued my ministrations. My right hand snaked down to the button of her slacks and I slipped it inside the waistband to her panties. She squirmed in an effort to bring my fingers closer to her heat. I let nature take its course a minute, while she panted and began to flush all over. Then, without warning, I pulled away from her.

"Huh? What-?" she said, suddenly disoriented. I admit I'd let my lesson go on a little longer than I'd intended, for now I was punishing myself as much as I'd wanted to punish her.

"You're lucky it was me ravishing you like that," I said when I could, trying my best to sound disapproving.

She raised an eyebrow, propping herself up on her elbows. "Lucky, eh? Well aren't we conceited?"

"That's not what I meant." I looked over at the open door. "I've warned you about leaving that balcony door open, Beth. Remember, someone was murdered not a block from your home, someone who is still on the loose, by the way. Or some sex fiend might climb up here and do God knows what to you."

She smirked. "It already felt like some sex fiend was ravishing me. Now, get back her and finish the job."

With that, she completely removed her blouse and bra, then began lowering her slacks while I stood there, watching my whole plan backfire, my lesson falling on deaf ears. Then she crooked her little finger at me, and I was a goner. I rejoined her on the bed, the lonely days without her intimate touch fading away as familiar warm hands pulled my shirt over my head, and then greedily went for my belt buckle. When we were both naked, I picked up right where I'd left off, surprised that it didn't take long to bring her over the edge with just my fingers, while my mouth latched onto hers, swallowing her cries of release.

I was so crazy with need for her, that I didn't give her much time to recover.

"I want to try something," I whispered, then, before she could ask, I flipped her over on her stomach and kneeled on the bed behind her.

"I've never—" she began, as I pulled her hips closer. So, little Miss Adventurous had never done it doggy style? I chuckled softly, excited that I was going to be her first with something. Well, besides being her first—_last_-vampire

"I think you're gonna like this," I told her, then smoothly entered her from behind. She gasped at the new sensation, but got the hang of the movements quickly. I think I was more turned on than I'd ever been in my life, loving her from this entirely new perspective. I felt my face vamping out as I reached around to touch her, cupping her breasts, then moving lower until I heard the telltale quickening of her heart, a sure way to know I was doing something right. It didn't take much for us both after that, and we collapsed on the bed in a satisfied heap. I was still joined with her, my chest resting on her back now, nuzzling into her neck as she shivered with the aftershocks.

"Oh my God," I heard her say into the pillow. I kissed her shoulder and smiled.

"You can say that again."

Unfortunately, another need was pressing, and I moved off of her to pad into her kitchen. I opened the fridge and grabbed one of the bags of blood I kept there, puncturing it with my fangs and drinking it down thirstily. I would have fed from her, but she had to work the next day, and I didn't want her overly tired. I always hated having to leave her warmth so I could cater to this insatiable monster within.

Back in her bed, I pulled her close to my side, playing with her hair, caressing her soft skin. The breeze from the open door felt nice on my overheated body.

"So what have you learned tonight, missy?" I asked, renewing my lecture.

I felt her body shake with soft laughter. "I learned…that I absolutely _love_ doggy style."

It was my turn to laugh. "Not exactly what I set out to accomplish by jumping on your balcony…"

"Oh, is that what they're calling it these days?"

I rolled her over on her back and kissed her smart mouth, reveling in the sweetness of her lips and the sensual feel of her naked body beneath me.

"If you'd like, I could think of a few other positions I'd like to show you," I said, drowning again in the sparkle of her eyes.

"Well, get to work, Teach," she said huskily, "I haven't got all night."

In my total preoccupation with her body, I'd completely forgotten why I'd come over in the first place.

I left Beth's bed at about midnight. I switched off her light, made sure her front door was locked, and snuck out through the balcony door, securely locking it behind me. I remembered now why I'd gone to Beth's. I was going to ask her if she wanted to come to the morgue with me so I could see Royce's body myself, but she was sleeping so soundly, I left her with a kiss on her forehead and a quickly scrawled explanation. As I started my car, it occurred to me that I was feeling pretty elated for a guy on his way to the morgue.

I smiled lazily at the thought of some of the things Beth and I had done together, how great it was to feel so confident in our love, so comfortable in the bedroom, that I could try things with her that just a few months ago I might have been too shy to suggest. I had years of fantasies to live out with her, and now that I knew she could be just as adventurous in the bedroom as out, it would bring a whole new facet to our sexual relationship. Not that there had been anything wrong before—I just didn't want her to get too bored with my sometimes old-fashioned lovemaking. I think I proved myself tonight, judging by how many times she cried out my name. Yep, this old vamp still had it.

Since Guillermo was working days again, Terrance was minding the store. He smiled in welcome, obviously thankful for someone to talk to in the middle of the wee small hours. I told him I needed to see last night's John Doe.

"Yeah, this guy had a pretty nasty chest wound," he recalled, pulling out the drawer. "He part of a case you're working?"

"Yeah," I said noncommittally. The fewer vamps who knew what I used to be part of, the better. When Terrance pulled back the sheet, I stared at Royce's wrinkled face, wondering briefly if I would look that way now, if I were still human. Would the years have been as clearly defined on my face?

_I hope I can help you rest in peace, old friend. Come on, give me some sort of clue._

I began sniffing around, confirming for myself that there was no vampire involvement. Near his hands, I detected an interesting smell. Something flowery, familiar. Then it hit me. At the crime scene, when I'd first smelled Royce's blood, I thought it smelled familiar. But now, here with his body, I realized it wasn't just his blood I'd remembered.

"Hey, you have his clothes here?" I asked Terrance. I could tell by the recent cuts and stitches that the autopsy had been performed.

"Yeah. Forensics hasn't picked them up yet."

He went to a walk-in closet and brought out a huge zip-top bag and set it on the counter. I unzipped it and a cornucopia of fragrances assaulted my nostrils. Predominating to me was, of course, the poor guy's blood, and then I began to sort through the other scents. People use a lot of products, which in turn have many competing smells. To humans, there is usually just one overriding scent they can smell at a time, but to a vampire, there can be countless odors on top of each person's own natural essence. It takes many years of experience for a vampire to be able to decipher each individual fragrance. And don't get me started on the multitude of scents modern American women exude…

With Royce, I smelled shampoo, soap, deodorant, shaving cream, after-shave, dry cleaner chemicals, laundry detergent…and something else. What was that flowery fragrance? It was a specific scent, not a mixture, as with most perfumes. I couldn't pin down what it was exactly, or where I'd smelled it before.

"Hey, Terrance. Do you smell a floral scent in here?"

Terrance, having long worked in a morgue in conjunction with police investigations, must have an even more sensitive nose than I did. He sniffed inside the bag.

"Yeah, sure. It's…lavender." He picked up a sleeve of Royce's tweed jacket. "It seems to be concentrated here, but it's all over the jacket. My mother used to use lavender soap," he said nostalgically.

"Lavender. Hmmm. I smelled it on his wrists too." I remembered what the witness had said, about seeing something—or likely _someone_—being dragged near the crime scene by a woman. I'd smelled this faint, familiar scent when Beth and I had looked around there, then in the hallway near my apartment, but I'd discarded it as likely just a toiletry product. The woman must have been wearing lavender hand lotion, perfume, or soap and dragged him by the wrists or hands. While this didn't exactly identify his killer now, it might certainly come in handy later, especially for tracking purposes.

I walked back over to Royce and took a last look at my old partner. _Thanks for the clue, old friend. _ I re-covered his face and turned to Terrance.

"Thanks, man."

"No problem. Did you figure anything out?"

I hesitated as memories suddenly threatened to overwhelm me. I knew where I'd smelled that fragrance before. Coraline. I swallowed hard. _That doesn't mean it's her._

"Maybe," I finally replied to Terrance.

I suddenly couldn't get out of there fast enough.

A/N: Whew! That turned out to be a long chapter. I just didn't know where to stop, lol. Lots of things happened, I know. I'd love to hear your feedback!


	6. Alicia

A/N: This is my second chapter of the weekend, so make sure you have read Ch. 6, please. I had fun with this one—hope you enjoy it!

CHAPTER 6: Alicia

MICK

I pulled into the parking garage of Kostan Tower, sliding into the reserved space next to Josef's Ferrari. The garage was dimly lit, and was monitored through closed circuit TV in the guard shack near the entrance. A few cars were still parked sporadically throughout this level, no surprise since I had seen several windows still lit here and there in the building. Josef employed a lot of vampires, so of course many chose to work the night shift. I got on the elevator and road up to Josef's floor. I needed reassurance that I wasn't going nuts, that Coraline wasn't back wreaking her own particular brand of havoc. Believe It or not, when Josef wasn't in the middle of his own chaos, he was actually quite a calming influence.

I nodded to the guard posted outside Josef's offices and he gave a friendly wave. Josef's secretary was off nights, so I knocked once on his door, then walked on in. Hey, it wasn't as if Josef ever knocked at _my _place.

"Hey, Mick," said my best friend around the cigar between his teeth. He was sitting at his desk, laptop open, busily typing. A glass of scotch sat on a coaster within easy reach. He nodded toward the bottle near the wet bar, and I helped myself to a much needed drink. "Just a second," he said, "I'm updating my Facebook page."

I smirked, despite my quaking nerves. "You're joking. What's your status, pray tell?"

"_Enjoying my last wild days of bachelorhood."_

I laughed. "You're in your office on a week night posting your status on Facebook. How is that _wild?"_

He pondered that a minute. "You're right." I heard the quick clicks of the keyboard. "_Naked,"_ he added with a satisfied press of the _Enter _key.

I nearly choked on my scotch. "Hey," he continued dryly, "did you know Guillermo just finished cleaning out his garage? It's so interesting the things you learn on Facebook."

He shut down his computer with a flourish, then rose from his chair to refill his glass.

"So, what brings you out so late?" He assessed my scent with a grin. "Aside from a now-satisfied Beth and… the morgue? I won't even ask."

I grinned a little, because Josef was endlessly amusing, but his question reminded me why I was there.

"Coraline," I said simply.

He took his refreshed drink and went to sit on a black leather couch. I followed and sat in a matching chair. He'd learned from the last few run-ins we'd had with my ex to take it very seriously when I brought up her name. "What's Devil Woman up to these days? Last we saw her, she was likely headed to the dungeon of her brothers' house outside Paris. Did she escape to continue her lifelong goal of driving you insane?"

"I don't know. Royce Hampton's murder has me a little spooked, I guess. Since his murderer was likely a woman with dark hair who smells like lavender, I'm getting visions of Coraline exacting revenge for the Solomons' deaths."

"That was forty years ago, Mick. I seriously doubt Coraline has even thought about them since the day after they died; you know how self-centered she is. Unfortunately, her only obsession, my friend, is you. Besides, I thought she gave the rest of the Cure to you. Guillermo said there was no scent of vamp on the body, right?"

I sighed, then finished my whiskey. "Yeah, yeah, I've told myself these things. But I wouldn't put it past her to have finagled more out of her brothers, tracked Hampton down here, and-" I stopped. It did sound a little farfetched, even for Coraline. "You're right. She drives me insane even when she's not trying."

"Well if it's not Coraline, you have any other suspects?"

I shared with him all the information Logan had dug up about the deaths of all the other Soldiers, about the letter I'd received posthumously from Royce, and my own visit to the morgue.

"I can see where you might want to pin this on Coraline. I mean, it would be so much easier to say it had to be her and call it a day. Any luck tracking that lavender trail?"

"No," I said in frustration. "You know how it is with scents, especially if the crime happened outside. My only hope on that score is if I happen to smell it again on a woman who matches the killer's description. But how many woman in this city wear lavender perfume? It boggles the mind, Josef, it really does."

We sat in silence a moment, then I asked: "How about you, Josef? Any ideas?"

He absently swirled the scotch in his glass. "Nothing specific. I assume your old brotherhood pissed someone off and they decided to start a quest of their own and took them out one by one. It could be anyone—anyone who loves vampires, anyway. I really hate to say I told you so…"

I gave him a look of annoyance. In truth, he _always _loved to say _I told you so._

Restless, I stood up and walked over to Josef's huge bay window that overlooked LA's nighttime skyline. Somewhere out there, a killer might be looking for me now. "The kicker," I told him, "is that I may not get another break in this case until they go after me."

"Well, the difference is, unlike the other victims, you are a vampire. You'll _smell_ her coming from a mile away. I'm not too worried about you. On second thought, you want me to send my security detail to watch your apartment while you sleep?"

I laughed. "No. I'll be alright. I think I can handle myself against a small human woman, even if it turns out to be Coraline."

"What about Beth?"

That thought startled me a little. The woman could try to look for me there. I didn't hesitate. "Yeah, Josef, I'll take you up on that security detail on Beth's place. As a matter of fact, I think I'll head back there now, myself."

"Okay, I'll send them over in the morning after you leave."

"Something unobtrusive, if you don't mind. Beth's already gonna be ticked that I have someone watching her."

He walked me to the door. We shook hands, and he patted my back in reassurance. "Don't worry, Mick. I got your back."

"Thanks, man. I know you always do."

The minute I got off the elevator in the parking garage, I caught the faint scent of lavender. I stood stock still, listening. Somewhere nearby, a human heart was beating. I scanned the garage, and then I saw her. She was leaning against a black corvette parked in shadow across the lot, watching the elevator. When she saw me look her way, she ducked behind a big cement pillar. _Too late, bitch._

I poured on the vampire speed and took the wide way around, taking her by surprise while she was peeking from behind the pillar at the place where I used to be. I flattened her shoulders against the cement with my hands. She looked up at me, unusual green eyes widened in surprise.

"Who the hell are you?" I growled, trying not to vamp out. She was a pretty little thing, for a murderer. Her straight, dark hair was pulled up into a messy bun, and she looked vaguely Asian. She was dressed in black slacks and t-shirt, her full lips were painted a luscious red, and she smelled like a field of lavender.

"Who am _I_? Who the fuck are _you_, manhandling a woman in a parking garage? Let me go, or I'll scream for the guard!" She had an English accent, and she was trying to sound tough, but her heart was pounding a mile a minute.

"Why'd you kill Royce Hampton?"

"I don't know who the bloody hell that is. Now let me go!"

She was like a little doll beneath my hands, her shoulders deceptively slim, all the better to hide her identity as an assassin. "Who hired you?" I tried again, but I knew she was a professional and was likely trained to withstand torture.

Her eyes glowed with green fire, and she gave up her ruse as a helpless female, remaining belligerently silent. I allowed my face to vamp out, which wasn't too difficult, considering how enraged I was. I leaned in closer to her face, and except for a slight gasp of surprise, she seemed unaffected.

"I'm starting to lose patience now. Who. Are. You?"

An instant later, I became one of the many who had likely underestimated her, when the sudden pains shot simultaneously to my gut and my groin. She'd likely had a knife in her front pocket, and used her free hand to stab me in the stomach and bring her knee up at the same time—a lethal combination. I slumped over despite myself, unintentionally loosening my hold on her shoulders. This allowed her the chance she needed, and she slipped under my arm, fumbling for her car keys. Now normally, the knife wound wouldn't have bothered me so much, but the assault to the boys had been a double whammy, so to speak, which bought her a few vital seconds.

I heard her car door shut and I looked up to see the Corvette speeding away. Acting quickly now, despite the pain, I pulled the knife from my gut and threw it at the front, driver's side tire. It tore into the sidewall , blowing it out with a whoosh of expelled air. She lost control instantly, and I saw her struggling with the steering wheel before glancing off the garage wall and plowing headlong into a cement column with a deafening crash. The fiberglass hood buckled like an accordion, and her air bag deployed. Unfortunately, she wasn't wearing a seatbelt, and she hit the ceiling of the car, the impact of the bag pinning her to the seat by the stomach, her head at an awkward angle pressed against the low ceiling.

I began limping toward the car to see if she'd survived the wreck. Suddenly, the front of the car caught fire, and I began to run. I pulled open the door, reaching in to dislodge her from the air bag. I carried her a distance away from the burning car, but the silence of her pulse already told me she was dead.

Having no breath to try to save her through CPR, I lay her gently on the concrete, noting it was probably a broken neck that had killed her instantly, anyway. I sighed and pulled out my cell phone, just as the guard appeared on the scene.

"Josef," I said into my phone, "you might want to come down to the parking garage. I've kinda made a mess down here."

The guard was well trained, and, with a nod from Josef, he went back to his post like nothing had happened, swinging the empty fire extinguisher.

"Evening, Mr. Kostan, Mr. St. John," he said politely as he left us. Just another night at Kostan Industries.

"Well, you weren't kidding," Josef smirked, regarding the smoldering Corvette and the woman's dead body. He sniffed. "Lavender girl, I take it?"

"Yeah."

He also smelled my blood and noticed I was holding my stomach. "What happened to you?"

"Stab wound." At his raised eyebrow, I said defensively, "She was very resourceful."

"Did you get anything out of her before you made her crash her beautiful car into my building?"

"No. She was very good at her job. I checked her pockets—nothing. No ID, not even a cell phone. She liked to keep her knife there, however. Now that the fire's out, I'll see if she left anything in the car."

Josef followed me over to the vehicle and we fished around inside, checking the glove compartment, popping the trunk. There was a wad of bills in a small purse with some cosmetics, and an overnight bag, but nothing to tell who she was and who might have hired her. Maybe she _was_ acting alone, after all.

"Hey, check this out," Josef said, his head in the trunk. He held up a manila envelope in one hand, what looked to be a Samurai sword in the other. He handed me the envelope while he admired the sword, taking it out of the scabbard, swinging it around like a Japanese warrior. "Nice," he muttered, admiring the razor sharp blade. Our murder weapon, apparently.

I opened the envelope. "Bingo!" I said, holding up a British passport. "Alicia Takahashi. She's thirty-two years old." There were also younger pictures of her with whom I assumed were her parents—a Japanese man and a Caucasian woman—smiling, standing on a sandy beach. There was a much-read letter in a tattered envelope. It was written in Japanese.

"Hey, Anjin-san, can you translate this for me?"

Josef reluctantly put the sword back in its scabbard and turned his attention to the letter. He knew several languages, including Japanese, which came in handy with some of his business dealings.

He scanned it first, then began reading:

_5 April, 1998_

_Dear Daughter,_

_I know it is hard for you to understand who I have become, what I have become. I have trouble understanding it myself. But since your mother is gone now, you are all I have left. I hope we can make peace and you can come to love me again, like you used to when you were a little girl. But this life I have chosen can be difficult. My sire is very demanding. She says that people are hunting us and that we must be cautious at night._

_Please call on me and let me know what I can do to help you to forgive me. No matter what I am, I will always love you._

_Your father_

"Sounds like Daddy was a vampire," Josef said, handing me back the letter. "Your Soldier friends must have gotten to him." He glanced down at Alicia. "Looks like you have your motive."

I nodded. "Logan said the first unsolved death of a Soldier was in 1998. I guess, given the date of the letter, that would fit our time frame. But it seems too tidy, somehow. Too simple."

"Mick, Mick, Mick. If there's one thing I've learned in four-hundred years, sometimes the simplest explanations _are_ the right ones."

I smiled tightly. "You're probably right. Still, I'll have Logan run her name and see what turns up."

I looked over at the wreckage. "Sorry about this. Send me the bill. Are the Cleaners on their way?"

"Yeah, they'll take care of our friend Alicia, here." He shook his head. "Such a waste. She was very beautiful."

"Well, my balls didn't think so." My stomach either, but at least it had stopped bleeding. As for my testicles, I might be limping a while longer.

Josef laughed. "Spunky too. I bet I would have liked her. You want me to call off that security detail for Beth?"

"No. Let's give it a few days, if you don't mind. At least until I hear something from Logan."

"No problem. Good night, again. Oh, and try not to break anything else on your way out, will ya?"

I grinned and walked back over to the car, while Josef had taken out the sword again, swinging at invisible warriors.

TBC

A/N: Well, looks like just one more chapter left for this story. But it will be a BIG chapter, lol, at least in scope.

Oh, and thanks to my hubby, as technical advisor. He assures me that if someone had superhuman strength (like Mick) it would be possible to blow out a tire by hitting it hard enough with a sharp, pointy knife. And though I didn't include this important point, he wanted me to note that the knife had to have bounced out immediately, otherwise, the leak would be slow. There you are, you sticklers for detail. Then again, if you've suspended your disbelief to enjoy vampire stories, surely you can allow yourself to believe Mick could throw and knife and cause a car to crash. But I digress…Your reviews are much appreciated!


	7. Lavender's Blue

Chapter 7: Lavender's Blue

MICK

I parked in front of Beth's condo and got out to sniff around. I jumped back up on the balcony, listening through the door to her even, sleeping heartbeat. I detected no other heartbeats, smelled neither vamp nor strange human, and jumped back down to keep watch in my car until morning. I took that opportunity to call Logan.

When he answered, he was out of breath. "Hello," he gasped.

"Hey, Logan. It's Mick. Are you—are you _exercising?" _

He laughed a little. "Some might call it that." I heard soft, feminine laughter in the background. I chuckled in surprise.

"Well, you get back to it. Good for you, man."

"Yeah. I'll call you back in about ten minutes."

I snorted to myself, but couldn't resist saying: "Sure you can't give her at least fifteen?"

He hung up on me. I wondered if this was how Josef felt when he gave me a hard time on the phone when he knew Beth was in bed with me. It was actually pretty damn funny. Then I turned on the radio to get any mental images of Logan having sex out of my mind.

True to his word, ten minutes later, Logan called me back. "Hey, man. What's up?"

_Boy, if I were Josef…_

"Uh, well, I need you to run a name for me."

I heard some shuffling as he was likely getting a pen. "Shoot."

"Alicia Takahashi. Human. British citizen. Age 32." I took her passport from my pocket, flipping through her travel stamps. "Hey, you remember those cities and years of Soldier of Night deaths?"

"Yeah, just a sec." I waited while he pulled up the screen. "Here they are: New York, 1998; Miami 2000; Houston, '05; Seattle '07, and New Brunswick, Canada, '08."

As he read them off, I flipped through Alicia's passport, noting that she had entered the US and Canada in those cities in those years.

" Well, I guess that explains that," I murmured.

"What?"

"Never mind. I mean, go ahead and run that name, see what you come up with. Thanks. Oh, and Logan. Don't answer the phone next time you're in the middle of _exercising. _Unless, of course, you don't want to _exercise _with your guest again…Really not good form, buddy, seriously."

"Gotcha. Thanks for the advice. And I'll call you soon."

I turned up the smooth jazz station and thought about what Josef said, how the simplest answer is usually the right one. I guess he was right, but my investigator instincts were always looking for other angles, other theories of conspiracy, hidden motives, secret identities. Combine that with a crazy ex-wife, and you get a vampire with major trust and commitment issues. Just ask Beth.

I contemplated Royce's letter to me. I was the last of the Soldiers of Night, but it wasn't a new feeling for me. Since coming back to LA forty years ago and starting my PI business, that's how I'd always felt. The last—more correctly, _the only _Soldier_, _at least here in this city_. _I wore the ring of that brotherhood now as my own symbol of what was right, of what was just. I wish I could have told this to Royce, made him understand that I'd just been a Soldier on a different front. He didn't need to pass any torches to me; I'd been holding it here all along.

An hour later, Logan called.

"This Alicia girl is a world traveler. She been to all those cities I mentioned, plus locations all over Europe. Her parents were both college professors at Oxford. About ten years ago, her mother died, and her dad disappeared off the grid shortly after that. Alicia went to college at Cambridge, majoring in Japanese History. She's a martial arts expert in several different disciplines, master of ancient weaponry, and, might I say from her picture, exceptionally hot. She's an heir to her mother's considerable estate. Independently wealthy. So, hot _and_ rich. And hey, unmarried."

"And also dead," I said solemnly, feeling suddenly sad at how much promise she had had, wasted on vengeance and hatred.

"Oh, no kidding? Too bad. Well, do you need any more info on this ex-babe?"

I sighed, suddenly feeling worn out, both physically and mentally. "No. Thanks, Logan. And run the tab, will ya?"

"Any time, Mick. Well, it's almost dawn. I need to get Stacy home. I only have the one freezer here."

I laughed. "Welcome to the joys of couplehood," I said encouragingly. "I can't wait to meet her."

"I'm kinda keeping her to myself for now. See ya, Mick." I could tell Stacy was once again vying for his attention. Way to go, Logan.

The sky was in fact lightening, and I glanced at my watch. Six o'clock. I looked up to see Beth's bedroom light click on. I shot off a quick text to Josef. _Call off your watchdogs. It's all over._

Beth's face appeared at the window, hair sleep-mussed, wearing that ratty pink robe with the poodle on the side. She looked sexy as hell. She caught sight of my car and me gazing up at her. She waved, gesturing that I come on up. I grinned in reply and nodded, practically running to her door, just as the sun's rays were licking at the eastern horizon.

_Two nights before…_

The couple met on the beach in the moonlight, like clandestine lovers on a secret rendezvous. This was true, but not in the ways outside observers might think. She was wearing a summer dress of jade green, and it swirled around her knees in the ocean breeze. In one hand she held silver sandals by their straps, and her silky black hair caught the reflection of the moonlight as it blew gently around her porcelain face. In her other hand, she held a small, rectangular parcel. The man wore his trousers up rolled, having abandoned his shoes back at the beach house, and he forgot how much he liked the feel of warm sand between his toes.

They began walking together, heading away from the house, and he was the first one to speak.

"This will be the last time I'll need your services. He'll be coming into LA tomorrow night. Find him, follow him, kill him."

He reached into his breast pocket and brought out a picture of an old man. The moon was bright enough that she could just make out his kindly features. She shook her head.

"He looks like my grandfather. I don't know if I can do this."

"You never had a problem with it before. This man has killed hundreds of my kind, of your own father's kind. He is the last, and then we are done."

She stopped and looked at him. "He is not the last, and you know it."

"For all intents and purposes, he is. You don't touch St. John, you hear me? Besides, you'd be dead in two seconds if you tried."

"You think I haven't killed vampires before?"

He stopped and quickly grabbed her upper arms, his eyes going silver with anger. "St. John is the exception, understand?" And like a summer storm, his dire mood passed quickly, and he released her. "Hampton will try to make contact with him so you'll have to be careful you aren't seen. If St. John sees you, he'll hunt you down to the ends of the earth."

"I've done this before. At least five times, at my last count."

The man was quiet a moment, and they continued their leisurely stroll. "The Soldiers should have stayed in Europe. It wasn't my problem when they confined their vamp hunting there. The minute they started trying to infiltrate the US, following their prey to American soil, it became my business, and thus, Alicia, it became yours."

"But what if St. John gets wind of this, decides to form a new brotherhood here in the States?"

"He won't. It would have happened long before this if that had been his intention. But meeting with Hampton could renew old…sympathies. That's why your job this time is particularly important. Find Hampton before he finds St. John."

"And then…?"

"Like I said, our business will be complete."

"I won't ever see you again?" She sounded genuinely disappointed, and he shot her a look of annoyance.

"You're the one that ended things between us eight years ago, sweetheart. Since then, it's been strictly business, like we agreed." But he liked Alicia, and didn't want things to be bitter between them, even though he admitted it had hurt his pride to be rejected long ago. He would never get used to being told _no. _Fortunately, that rarely happened, or he'd have even more blood on his hands."Besides," he continued wryly, "we'll always have San Francisco."

He caught the glint of white teeth as she smiled in remembrance. "Yes, we will."

"What if things go wrong, what with St. John involved? What if I _am_ seen…or caught?"

He sighed. "Stop worrying so much. Your cover is set in stone, unbreachable, even by St. John's top investigators. Just remember to speak with an English accent, and you'll be fine. No one will ever find out you are from San Francisco, in my employ. There's just enough truth in your planted background that it will be easy to keep your story straight." She seemed mollified, at least for the moment.

They'd reached a rocky outcrop, too punishing to cross with bare feet, so by unspoken agreement, they headed back the way they had come.

"Oh," she said, lifting the hand with the package. "Here's the soap you asked me to pick up from that shop on the Pier. I still buy it for myself after all these years. My signature fragrance." She took a deep whiff of the white paper that surrounded it before holding it out to him. He took it from her with a smile.

"Thanks. I know a woman who will love this."

"And it won't remind you of me when you smell it on her?"

Another smile teased his lips. "Maybe, a little. You'll never know if I'll be thinking of you while I'm making love to someone else."

She laughed. "I'll know."

By this time, they'd come to the steps that led up to where her Corvette was parked above the beach. She was suddenly serious again, a habit that he'd found continually disconcerting in their brief, torrid affair.

"I'll be by to pick up my payment after its done."

He felt compelled to suddenly say the three little words he'd never said to her before. Maybe it was the moonlight, or the beach, reminding him of their shared history. "Be careful, Alicia."

She nodded and laughed carelessly, already taking the stairs two at a time with her lithe, deceptively powerful body. "Always…"she called back, her voice carried quickly away on the wind.

He continued walking without her until he reached the beach house. He bent over to pick up his expensive loafers at the end of the ocean pebble pathway, brushing off his feet before he went back inside. Simone always hated when he tracked half the beach into her kitchen.

She was pouring them each a glass of blood, and he watched in gratitude as she heavily laced his with vodka.

"Did the walk on the beach clear your head?" She asked, kissing his cheek as she gave him his drink.

Josef nodded, walking into the living room and plopping down on the couch. She'd lit a fire and she joined him, nestling against him as they watched the dancing flames.

"You smell like lavender," she purred. "Not a very masculine aftershave."

He chuckled, reaching into his pants pocket. "It's not me. I brought you a gift."

She set her drink on the coffee table and took the proffered package. She pulled out the soap, and it filled the room with its slightly spicy fragrance. She exclaimed at the actual pieces of lavender encased in the purple bar. Much like Alicia had, she inhaled the heady scent with delight.

"That's lovely. Where'd you get it?"

"An old friend brought it down from San Francisco for me. I thought you might like it."

She took his drink from his hand and looked up into his face, pulling him down for a kiss. "I've got an idea," she breathed against his lips. "Let's try it out in the shower, why don't we?"

"An inspired idea, my love. I'm feeling a little dirty myself." She could never resist his wicked smirks.

It wasn't long before they both smelled intimately of lavender.

Epilogue

JOSEF

"Dammit, Alicia," I said to her body after Mick had driven away. "I fuckin' told you to be careful!"

I took off my suit jacket and covered her beautiful, lifeless face with it. I wondered what I might have done if Mick hadn't been there. I realized in shock that I might have tried to turn her. What would Simone have said to that? She'd probably accuse me of trying to start a harem and gone back home to live with Mama. I smiled sadly at the thought.

I recalled meeting Alicia at a party in San Francisco. Her father had shown up, and I'd instantly recognized him as a new vampire. I overheard him arguing in a corner with his daughter, pleading with her to accept the new him. She didn't understand how he had cheated on her mother with a vampire and allowed himself to become a monster. The part in her cover about her dad being a vampire—well, that was true. He being killed by the Soldiers of Night—not true. As far as I know, he still sold cars in the Bay area. The old letter she carried with her—also real (except for the part about him being chased by vampire hunters; that was added later). I felt including it in her personal effects added a sense of realism to her masquerade.

Anyway, when Alicia had run out of the party upset, I caught up with her, explained to her how newly turned vampires were. Next thing I knew, we were having sex on the hood of my car, the sound of crashing waves adding to the sensuality of the experience. I could never resist a damsel in distress; they're especially open to gratitude sex. I learned she was an expert in martial arts, and boy did that girl have stamina and flexibility. Anyway, to make a long story short, she needed money, didn't want any from Daddy, and didn't mind killing vampire killers. My kind of girl.

When I'd left Mick in England forty years before, I hadn't been as complacent about his vigilante activities as I'd led him to believe. I'd told Mick then that the vampire system of justice was fully adequate to police its own kind. The last thing we needed was human interference. England and the rest of Europe wasn't my territory. Out of courtesy, I could have informed the local Council, but with Mick involved, I couldn't risk his execution as a traitor to our kind. Besides, I'm sure London's Council was aware of the murders of vamps, but the Soldiers were good at hiding their identities. They managed to clean out a lot of the vampire riffraff in Europe, and in some ways the Council might have seen the benefit of that, even though it had meant giving up a few vampire trials. It was my understanding that England's councils, at least, had turned blind eyes to Soldier activities, so long as there weren't any gross injustices. But I couldn't risk war on my own turf. So, as soon as my spies in Europe tipped me off that a Soldier was tracking a renegade vamp into the country, I sent Alicia.

I didn't like the determined look on Mick's face before he left. I'd hoped Alicia's cover had satisfied his damned inconvenient, suspicious nature. I just had to rely on the hacking skills of my very well-paid employees. If there was a glitch, heads would roll, quite literally.

I felt the weight of the cell phone I'd lifted from Alicia's car in my pocket. Mick hadn't seen me swipe it during our search, or he would have seen the text I'd sent her about waiting to come up for her payment after Mick had left my office. She'd stupidly waited in the garage for a vampire that was tracking her. That had been her fatal mistake.

I had pretended Alicia's phone was mine when I pretended to call the Cleaners. I hated lying to Mick, I really did. But sometimes I had to protect him from himself, as I had done on numerous occasions. I was a true believer in Machiavelli: the ends did in fact did justify the means. The _end_ here was that I kept Mick from being fried by a Vampire Council flamethrower. English vamps might look the other way, but LA was known for its strict adherence to the law—well, _vampir_e law, anyway.

I gave a long-suffering sigh and pulled out the keys to the Ferrari. I popped the trunk and picked up Alicia's body, wrapping her in my jacket before laying her inside. She had a father who deserved to have his daughter's body back, vampire or not. I couldn't bear to see her disposed of by some impersonal Cleaner. I owed her for all that she'd done, for all that she'd risked, for the memory of an erotic night on top of my BMW, ten years before. I felt a tug of nostalgia as the scent of lavender wafted up from her still form, and I knew I would always associate that smell with Alicia. I shut the trunk reverently.

As I pulled out of the garage, I called ahead to my pilot.

"Fire her up, Johnny. We're heading to San Francisco."

If I timed things right, I'd be back in Simone's arms by the time she woke up, and, as usual, no one would be the wiser. Machiavelli would have been proud.

THE END

A/N: Hope I kept you guessing up to the end! Thanks to all who read and reviewed. Mysteries are fun, but they're so damn hard to write!

I know this was a short one, but I think I've mentioned before that I'd rather have a short fic that's tightly woven, then a long, meandering story that takes forever to get to the punch line. I hope you aren't too disappointed, especially when I tell you there are still more stories in my head just waiting to share with you. I'm thinking Josef and Simone should get married soon, don't you?


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